The Clock-tower (Peter pan Twist)
by Let'sSeeWhatHappens
Summary: This is a twist on the truth of Peter pan, his lost boys, and who the Wendy we all know, really is. Nothing seems as it is, nothing is as it seems. A dark twist on our youthful hero finally reveals the truth of the childhood story we all know and love. Filled with action, violence, and love. Who will survive Neverland?
1. Chapter 1

There are moments in life that define who we are. For some, it's getting their first car, others it's their first tragedy. In even more remote cases, it requires someone's first heartbreak for them to realize what the true meaning of life is, and where they stand in it. For me on the other hand, I've experienced all of these things, and have figured out that trying to find out why I exist, is a lost cause.

The sun is always blistering during the early summer months. School is almost out, and everyone is melting like popsicles on a stovetop. Jogging is probably the worst decision right now, along with intentionally succumbing to the hellish heat that coats my skin like a bucket of glue. Of course, I do both of these things. I prefer night running to during the day, so I guess I'm not completely insane, but still not the smartest person ever.

The lamplit road proudly shines the way around the city's central lake. It seems like everyone has decided to get out of the house this evening. Mother's push strollers, which I have learned, the painful way, are basically death traps if you trip on the edge of one. Girls my age walk with their friends, giggling and chatting about who knows what. Whereas I run and push myself as hard as I can, till I'm panting like a dog and dripping sweat. My tracker marks off my three mile goal.

"You must be training for a mathathon there girl." An old man jokes casually before continuing on his walk.

I smile at his receding figure. Not many understand the desperate need to exhaust your body. People like me, haunted by the faces of those they loved, are in a constant battle. Exhausting your mind is necessary in order to finally get some sleep at night. Otherwise, the late hours become a constant companion. My shoes carry me over the loose gravel towards the small area where people park their cars. Home is calling my name almost as loudly as the shower is.

My car still has the new smell that is always associated with a cross between a doctors office and fresh plastic. I've been meaning to get an air freshener to shake things up a bit, but I haven't gotten around to it. Besides, clinical is better. Being attached to things, or people, is a big mistake because those relationships never last long.

My apartment is in the heart of downtown. Within walking distance to anything I might need, and things I will never need. My parents put it in their will that I would get this place and, ever since their accident, I've been living here. It's been over a year since everything happened. My little brothers have been living with our grandparents. I would have been as well, except the fact that my grandparents want nothing to do with a girl, and that they live in England. Washington D.C. is a different world compared to there, and one I'm not willing to leave.

Let's just say that my parents were loaded before they decided to give up fighting to live, but I can't touch any of that money till I turn 21. Of course, I get a monthly salary which covers enough for gas, bills, and the essentials. Even still, I'll be limited on how much I can get till I'm closer to 30. My grandparent's can't touch the money either, despite the hours in court they spent trying to get their greedy hands on it. Sometimes, I think that the only reason they have my brothers is a silent threat to me. That if I don't repay them for their sacrifices later in life, something will happen to my last true relatives.

I shove away my racing mind as I turn on the water and wash away all the sweat and stress of today. I finally turn my attention to my mental list of activities I have to complete by the time I shuffle out of the bathroom wrapped snugly in a towel. My fingers unconsciously click the buttons on my coffee machine before I make my way to my bedroom while it brews. My room is simplistic, which is how I like it. Pale gray walls, and white furniture. The only personal touch it has, would be the christmas lights strung about randomly and my succulent plants. I guess my clothes make it mine as well, but I don't really count that. I slip into some leggings, an oversized t-shirt and some socks, but no shoes. I don't really like shoes, they are too constricting.

The smell of brewed coffee welcomes me as I pour myself a thermos full of the delicious bitter liquid. I grab my backpack and a bag of twizzlers. My sock covered feet carry me outside onto the small patio that connects me to the outer wall of the building. There is a small ladder that only is visible if you are facing the sliding glass doors. I pull my way up until I am surrounded by the roof's garden. Since D.C is a city, people will do anything to try and make themselves feel more connected to nature, including paying extra to be able to tend to a garden on the roof. My mother and I used to come up here during the summer months when we would all visit the city instead of being in the country. She would always make sure to bring me up here after the boys went to bed. Then she would pour us two cups of coffee, just sit, and listen to me tell her all of my thoughts. Of course, my "coffee" was mostly cream but I didn't mind. Losing those nights were probably one of the hardest parts of losing my parents. That was usually the only time when my mother put away her work and left her phone downstairs in order to simply give me her undeniable affection. The small trees and vegetables were the only other ones who knew all my secrets and, like my mother, they would take them to the grave.

The moon is already high in the sky The stars fuzzy tiny dots, too difficult to make out through the city's bright lights. I automatically check each of the rows of green plants to make sure they're still alive. Only one of them has withered, but despite the heat, the rest of them are powering through. I gently pat the dirt around them to smooth it out, and feel if there's any moisture in them. Sometimes, people forget or take their plant's survival for granted and neglect to water them. Most of them seem to be freshly watered, others not so much, but they'll live. The air smells of street cars and fresh dirt. I pat the dirt around some of the smaller plants to check them as well, when I pat something soft.

"What the?" My hands find their way back to the soft spot and pull out a… hoodie?

_Why is there a hoodie here? _One, based on the size and style of it, it's for someone around my age. Two, no one around my age comes up here. Three, why was it hidden in the flowers?

I shake out the dirt on it and march my way over to the edge of the roof. The pale lights reflect off the forest green hoodie, but refuse to tell my anything about the owner. No marks on it or characteristics that would tell me anything about the mysterious wearrer. _Why hide a hoodie?_ There isn't any other way it could have gotten under the flower bed unless it was intentional. Maybe it was just some dumb kids goofing off. I have half the mind to go back to my apartment and hide under my covers, but I'm not a child anymore. I can't justify acting like one. I'm determined to get my assignments done and then try to sleep. I stretch out on my stomach on one of the old sunbathing chairs, and pull out my textbooks along with my battery powered lantern. I have math, astronomy, english, and history work. English is only reading a couple chapters of _Oliver Twist_, so I decide to finish that first.

I keep reflexingly looking at the hoodie. _Why is it here?_ Assignment after assignment, and yet I can't stop thinking about who it belongs to and why it's here. Finally, I finish the last math problem. My watch reads _11:35pm_. _I guess I'll do some more reading to get a head. _

I'm lost to the story in no time. Oliver had it rough, and that's an understatement. Ten pages fades into 20 then 50 then 100 then 200. I check my watch again, _2:14am_. I sip away at my themous, yet exhaustion clouds my vision after a time.

I snap awake when there's a shuffling behind me followed by soft cursing. I'm frozen to my spot. No one can see me, even if they tried. Only those who know the layout of the roof knows how to get to this spot, and can't see it without weaving through all the foliage. I slip off the chair and crawl into the shed's shadows. More shuffling, footsteps. My heart crashes against my ribcage. _Who the hell is here?_ My breathing comes in short soft hufs. That's when a tall form comes into view. They tilt their head in almost an expression of curiosity as they spot my scattered school heart gives a painful clench at the idea of them stealing my stuff. I grip the strange hoodie in my fist tighter. Wait. _Why do I have the hoodie?_ I don't remember grabbing it. I almost laugh at the fact that my instinct was to grab some random guys hoodie instead of any of my valuables. I really am dumb. As the strange figure bends over my English book, I picture Oliver Twist screaming at being violated by some stranger. A strangled wimper escapes my throat. I cover my mouth to prevent from screaming as the figure straightens immediately. _He knows I'm here. He knows I'm here. Run! Run!_ My mind is screaming at me to move, but my legs remain jelly. _Well here are Evalyn and you all can do is cower like an idiot._ Anger flares in my gut. I won't go down easily. I will fight. The figure turns slowly in a circle until their shadowed form faces me. They take a small step in my direction when I launch myself out of the shadows. A strangled battlecry rips free from my throat as I fling my body towards the mysterious figure. He wasn't expecting me to attack him, so his stance was off. We both crash to the ground. He manages to grab the edge of the chair and softens the fall.

_Rain. Thunder. Lightning illuminating his gold teeth and knife. "Give it to me little girl." My mother's tear stained face. My father's body laying in a pool of blood. _

The memories hit me like a sucker punch. I can't breathe. My body goes fiery hot and cold all at once. I stiffen as we both hit the ground. I should knock him out, move, anything, but I can't. _I can't breathe._ I had shoved away all memories of that night. I thought I was safe from them. Months of medication, therapy, more medicine. I was supposed to be safe. The stranger rolls out from underneath me in one swift motion. They seem like they're about to attack me, then they hesitate. I gasp in a breath of air wishing I couldn't. I wished it was me on the white marble bleeding out instead of them. I don't know when I started crying but now hot tears stream down the side of my face. I curl up in a ball on my side and shake violently.

"I-I th-thought they wo-wouldn't co-come back." I gasp out in a pained whisper.

I could feel the stranger's concern as though it were a tangible thing.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. Are you alright miss?" His voice is soft and gentle, yet rich and deep, all at once.

I can't stop crying, shaking, gasping for breath. Arms circle around me and I'm lifted off of the hard ground. My hair has fallen out of my hair tie and now flutters about in the wind in long waves. The stranger cradles me against him and then gently lowers me onto the pool chair.

"I- please- don't hu-hurt me." I manage to whimper out. Another vision of blood splattered clothes. _Bright lights. Screaming._ "Make it stop! Make it stop!" I cry out and grab at the sides of my head.

"_If you don't give it to me, I'm going to cut your mother apart. Piece by piece." He smiled and ripped off her ear. My mother's scream filled the house. My brother's were away at my grandparents. "I-I don't know what you want." My small voice came out like a strangled animal. "Then I'll take her fingers." _

I hear screaming from somewhere far away. Cold realization hits me. I'm the one screaming. Just like that night. I feel that someone's holding me. Whispering soothing words in my ear. I let my eyes slip close and slowly the memories begin to fade. My hands still clutch the hoodie, which my brain automatically says belongs to the stranger. Finally, after what feels like an eternity my body begins to relax. My hands relax, my legs, my arms, until I sag like a ragdoll in the stranger's arms. _Run. _My mind still whispers to me, but I ignore it. If the stranger wanted to hurt me, he would have done it by now. I just need to get out of his arms and go home without embarrassing myself more.

"Th-thank you." I feel ice cold and shiver involuntarily. "You can put me down now." I say with more confidence.

He sets me back down on the chair without saying a word.

"Ah." He smiles softly. "I see you've found my hoodie."

I look down at my hands where I still hold it. I look back up in his face. Sharp jawline, bright green eyes, wavy disheveled brown hair. _He's beautiful._ I feel my cheeks grow hot as I quickly look away.

"I-I found it in the flowers." I look back up slowly to meet his eyes.

"Well thank you." He reaches out his hands and gently takes it from mine.

"Of course." I reply automatically. He kneels down in front of me as though I'm a scared animal.

"I'm sorry for scaring you so much." He says gently.

I almost snort in laughter. _He thinks he's the one who scared me so much. _

"Oh no. Um. It wasn't you. It was um. I-I have to go." I force my body to scoot away from him and stand. I grab my books methodically and shove them back into my backpack.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Concern coats every word like a sweet poison. I don't need people to be concerned over me. I don't want them to be because then it makes them weak.

"Yes." I snap. _Why are you being so unnecessarily cruel? He just brought you out of a panic attack._ I pause and scold myself silently.

"So, you're a fan of Dickens' work?" He asks gently. Each word feels like sweet heaven to my ears. _What are you doing? Falling for some random stranger who could potentially be your murderer? _

"Uh yeah I guess so. I just wish they weren't so tragic, you know? Like why couldn't he have given the people an escape of the reality of their miserable lives, instead of being a constant reminder of it?" I answer. _Good, at least you're being polite now. _

"I guess he didn't want people to forget. He didn't want them to have an excuse to go on with life the way it was, he wanted them to change it for the better."

"Poetic." I murmur softly so he can't hear, but he does anyway.

"Poetry is food to the soul."

"It is a poison to reality." I answer back. "Look I really appreciate your help, is there anything I can do to repay you. Anything you want?" _I really need to get out of being indebted to this guy. _

He seems to consider my question for a moment while pulling on his hoodie. I didn't realize how cold it was till he slips it over his head and runs his hands through his hair. My cheeks grow warm. _This boy is very, very dangerous. _

"How about a dare." He says finally as I finish up packing up my stuff.

"A what?" _What does he mean by "dare"_. My options lay out before me. _I'll either be indebted to him for a while, or get it over with quickly. _

"A dare." He grins at me. _Oh god he's beautiful. _

"Stop it stop it stop it." I whisper to myself. _I can't think things like that about complete strangers _

"Mm?" His brow pinches together in confusion.

"Nothing. Umm, sure yeah I'll take a dare." I swear my cheeks must be the color of a stoplight. _You're so stupid you can't even have a normal conversation. _

I stand up with my bag and turn my attention back to him, only to find him observing me. Maybe it's the color of the flickering signs below, but _are his cheeks red_? _No you're just imagining things. _There's one thing I know would be impossible to not be real, the dark chuckle that follows me as I climb down the ladder to my apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm running down the marble hallways, towards a dark shadow. It's motioning frantically for me to follow. They told me it wasn't real, to never ever follow it, but my feet fly over the ground despite their wishes. Then I was falling, falling and falling. Down, down, down my small form flies through the air. The ground rises up me meet me…._

I open my eyes gasping for air. _One, two, three... _I count off the numbers silently in my head to calm myself. The morning sunlight shines through my curtains. My alarm clock has yet to go off, but I doubt I'll be able to sleep anymore. The memories filter in through my hazy mind. The hoodie, then the stranger, then the dare. _You don't even know his name or if he's going to be up there again, so how are you going to fulfill your promise? _I guess that if he really wants me to follow through on our agreement, then he'll find me again somehow. _Well that's as creepy as hell._ I make my way towards my bathroom after changing into a pair of ripped jeans and an oversized t-shirt. My bathroom is just as simple and empty as the rest of my small abode. A single toothbrush sits in a cup next to a bottle of face wash and hand soap. My reflection stares back at me. Wide blue green eyes, long wavy light brown hair, freckles sprinkled across my small nose and high cheekbones. I've never really seen myself to be attractive. People have complimented me on my appearance, but I haven't considered myself to be anything out of the ordinary. My mother though was breathtaking. She had the clearest set of blue eyes imaginable, with long blond curls, and the most beautiful smile imaginable. I spread my lips in a sad attempt at a smile. _You will never look anything like her. _The cruel voices of my thoughts always remind me that I will never be anything like her. Successful, happy, and deeply in love with my father. Those things will never be mine. I was barely making it on a daily basis. Trying to push out my loneliness, pain, all the memories. A deep sigh slips past my lips. I can't let myself slip down my emotional cliff. _You could always have it worse._ The single thought that made me accept my brother's departure and parents deaths. _I wonder what the stranger's life is like. _

"You really are hopeless." I whisper aloud, effectively shattering the silence.

After washing my face, brushing my teeth, and filling my thermos filled with coffee, I set off to school. Some part of me wishes that I had some crazy adventurous stories of high school that I could one day share, but I'm the typical nobody. I don't care about people, they don't care about me. The elevator takes me swiftly down the fifteen floors to the parking garage where my jet black toyota alta resides. School, running, home.

I step out of the shower snugly wrapped in my towel. I make my way to my room and stand before my closet. Typically I never think about what I wear when I go up to the roof, but the possibility that The Stranger may be there, has me puzzling over my clothing choices. _You really need to stop thinking about him that way. The chances of him being up there are so slim. _A frustrated sigh escapes into the unnatural silence of my apartment. _You know what, screw this. _I grab a pair of light gray leggings and a white racerback t-shirt.

The rooftop seems pretty empty besides the plants. _See? He's not here, surprised? _No. No I'm not surprised, I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up anyway. My tennis shoes tap softly until I make it back to my favorite spot to do homework.

I finally set aside my final assignment for the evening. The moon is high in the sky. _12:34am. _My watch says. _I guess he really isn't coming. _I scroll through the messages on my phone to check and see if my brother's have tried contacting me but, like always, there is nothing. The music flowing through my earbuds block out the annoying sounds of drunkards and streetcars below me. I stand and make my way to the edge of the building. People giggle with their friends and walk around with families. Couples hold hands and devour their partner's lips. _You're not aloud to feel alone._ I scold myself, yet tears make their way down each of my cheeks. _Get a grip on yourself! _My fingernails bite my palms as I manage to smooth my features into bleak nothing. I lean further towards the edge. _What would happen if I fell. Would people try and find my family? Would they know all the pain that my life has become? Do I even want to end it all? _No. No I don't want to die, I just want to stop hurting.

"I thought I might find you up here." I turn suddenly to the voice. _The Stranger is here._

My cheeks burn at his appearance as I pull out my earbuds. Dark jeans with a loose white collared shirt and tousled hair. _Who is he?_ The question that has been bugging me all day devours my mind.

"What is your name?" I hear myself ask.

He smiles at this and comes closer. "My name is Peter, what's yours?" He gently outstretches his hand to shake mine. His skin is rough and calloused, but not in the repulsing way. I feel my cheeks growing warmer and let my hair fall over the illuminated side of my face.

"Evalyn. Evalyn Angelica Darling." I answer. His whole body freezes.

"What did you say?" His voice has now become a whisper. Peter takes a step closer to me. I instinctively take one back until my heels are pressed against the knee high railing that is the only thing keeping me from falling to my death.

"I-I said my name is Evelyn Angelica Darling." My voice sounds more confident than I feel. Fear snakes its grimy hand around my being. _Run. Run. Run. _A chant has begun in my mind, but is immediately silenced by Peter's hands coming up gently and brushing away the hair that shadows my face. Warmth spreads from my toes to cheeks. My heart beats impossibly faster as he comes even closer. _He's going to kiss you._ The thought seems impossible. No one could ever want to kiss Evalyn Darling. The illegitimate daughter of her mother Wendy Darling, who insisted that she keep the last name Darling name instead of changing it to her step-father's. Darling, the name that made me constantly feel pushed away from my siblings, relatives and even parent's at times. Peter's fingers gently trace my cheekbones. They burn a trail down my neck before traveling back again, this time burying themselves into my hair. I feel my eyes slipping closed against my ever constant will to be hyper aware of everything.

"What are you doing?" I whisper. Breathing has become extremely difficult.

He leans closer until all I can see are his immaculate green eyes through my half lidded eyes.

"I thought I lost you." He whispers. So close that I can feel his breath against my lips.

Any chance of thought has been completely obliterated. _I need to think. _Despite my mind's scoldings, I don't move, and neither does he.


	3. Chapter 3

My mind finally wins the internal battle while inhaling his scent of forest leaves and cinnamon, and I step away from him. Which unfortunately requires me to awkwardly shuffle around him. My face is on absolute fire, along with the rest of my body. _How can a complete stranger do this to me? _He still stands facing the street. The streetlights illuminating his face gently. He takes a deep breath before facing me again.

"Please, I need to know. Where is she?" He says softly.

"Where is who?" I hear my own voice come out almost as sotly as his. His eyes seem to have grown haunted and shadowed. He takes a step closer, and I feel myself retreat a step.

"Where is Wendy." I hear him whisper. Cold shock snakes its hands around my heart. Is this some cruel joke? The news reports, headlines telling the public about the poor daughter that had to watch her parent's be mutilated. The girl who had to grow up too fast when she had to choose to have her mother pulled from life support after weeks of sitting by her side.

"You sicko." I hear the venom in my voice, venom I never knew was there. I begin grabbing my stuff shoving it roughly into my bag.

"She's dead isn't she?" I hear his voice coming from somewhere behind me. Flames of anger grow within me.

"Yes she's dead! I know you've seen the news reports. Everyone has! Don't even try to give me that bull. I've had people play jokes on me about it, but this is an all time low. I hope you've had a blast being a sicko." I shout before beginning to climb back down to my balcony. I miss a bar and scream. The wind rushes around me as I begin to fall. My clothes are pushed and pulled by invisible hands as the ground grows closer...closer….closer. Suddenly I'm grabbed before I hit the concrete and then I'm flying towards the night sky.

* * *

_Author's notes: _

Thank you to all who have taken the time to read my story. This is the first time I have allowed my work to be published on any public platform. I know that my grammar and writing skills need improving, but I hope that you were able to enjoy my writing anyway. Please feel free to PM me with tips or ideas! Also, please comment and follow this story to see where it goes! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Dizziness and bright lights fill every sense. Wind claws at my clothes as does the cold, though I remain held tight by Peter. I want to push away, run, hide, anything but remain pressed against him. The smell of forest leaves and mischief comes off of him in delicious waves. _Stop stop stop. You're flying. Falling. Down down down. _A strangled scream rips from my throat. I can't go back, I can't go back to that place. That dark place of my mind where memories filled with blood, death, and pain reside. My hands wrap around Peter, holding onto him for dear life as we fly faster and faster. I press my nose against his neck and shut my eyes against the freezing air. The temperature drops rapidly as we fly upwards. _This isn't real. This isn't real. This can't be real. _I begin to shake violently with cold, my entire body trembling. _Am I going into shock? Or is it so goddy cold I can't move?_ Somehow, despite my current circumstances, my mind remains sharp.

"Please put me down." I whimper weakly against his skin. My lips press gently against his pulse that runs along his neck as I murmur the words, fear keeping me from moving any more than my shivering is making me. He shivers in response pulling me tighter against him and letting me absorb some of his warmth. _He's probably just as cold as you._ The sound of wind rushing like the sea silences the words he murmurs back to me. Darkness soon blinds me more than my shut eyes. Another scream rips free from my throat. I can't feel my body, I can't feel Peter, I can't breathe. Silence rings in my head making my ears ring. I scream, but no sound comes out. I gasp in a breath, but to no avail. After a moment, a small twinkling shines through the blackness. It illuminates Peter's face, filled with concern. He still holds me, but I can't feel anything other than the burning in my lungs. I opened my mouth, but gasp in nothing. Darkness that has nothing to do with the lack of proper lighting fills the edges of my vision. Peter's says something, but I can't hear it. Then he is suddenly leaning towards me. _Am I dreaming? Have I died? _His warm mouth presses gently against mine making my head spin with the sudden sensation. He blows in a breath of air, filling my lungs with life. He repeats this process as we continue through the cold darkness, flying closer and closer towards the star which seemed to break through the darkness with its bright lights. My cheeks would be burning with embarrassment and pleasure of having Peter's mouth against mine own, even if it were simply for my own survival, except my lack of being able to breathe properly has caused my skin to grow pale and waxen. Soon the star's light is almost as blinding as the darkness was, forcing me to tightly shut my eyes and allow Peter's mouth to press to mine without looking into his beautiful eyes. He pulls away as I finally gasp in oxygen from the air around us, my mouth still burning from the memory of his. When my feet touch the soft grass, my legs give out from under me. I slam into the ground, and although it should hurt, no pain flares from the shoulder I landed on.

"Are you alright?" Peter asks gently, looking almost ashamed to have brought me here. A light blush begins creeping up his neck as his eyes flicker from my eyes to my lips. _Dear God where in the hells am I? _I don't answer him, my voice to fargone to even try. Lush green grass surrounds us. We are atop a hill I believe. Forest and lakes are strewn out below. _He kidnapped you. He kidnapped you. My god. _I glance in his direction and seeing his attention is upon the landscape below I do the only thing I am good at, I run.


End file.
